I’ll Be There For You #2
I raise my water bottle in mock salute. “Welcome to higher education. At least no one tried to have sex in your office today. I almost got myself sent to the fucking principal’s office when I caught those blasted hyena’s in the lower stacks. They’re lucky to be uncharcoaled at the moment.”
“Makes you miss Henny and Apex, right? She would have let you get away with a little flame throwing for the offense, even if it made parents angry,” Felix mutters.
Chess finishes with the wok, wipes the counter with a flick, and sets a plate down in the center of the island. “Sit. Eat some appetizers before your low blood sugar makes you even crankier and I tell our girl on you.”
Felix actually shudders at that and I laugh. The lunchable would definitely give him shit for not eating enough given how he rides her perfect ass about that. The older twin grabs a pair of chopsticks, breaks them apart, and then looks at me sideways. “Where are the other two? Any idea?”
“None,” I say. “But I’d wager the bell tower is a safe guess for one, and who the hell knows for your brother. He could be swimming in the salt water lake to find treasure with the Captain for all we know.”
Felix snorts again. “Has anyone tried texting them yet?”
I shake my head. “Felix, I just sat down before you came in. No, I haven’t messaged anyone yet.”
Chess slides onto the stool next to Felix and immediately pushes the dumplings at him. “Eat.”
Our friend eats like he’s in a competition, and finishes a full plate before running a hand over his jaw. “Maybe I was really hungry. Damn, Chessie, you’re on top of shit today,” he says.
There’s a lull, and I know what Felix is waiting for now that he’s not overwhelmed with hunger. “You look like you have something else to say.”
The Raj looks at me, and then at Chess. “Did you hear about Zhenga being excluded from these committees? It’s fucking weird, Aubrey.
Preds schools always put all the women on the damn things because they’re assholes and she actually should be on the two I had to attend today.
But she wasn’t on the first one and it’s strange. I know that sounds nit picky, but…”
I hadn’t, but if Felix thinks it’s off, then it probably is. “Why do you think that is? I certainly would have put her on those group projects before you. You are not known for being patient with bureaucracy and you don’t give a single fuck about alumni ass-kissing.”
“She didn’t even know they did it until she read the agenda in the second meeting,” I say as I frown. “And it pissed her off because she was out of that room so fast your head would spin at the end. I tried talking to her at the practice about it, but she didn’t give me anything useful.”
Chess raises an eyebrow. “You think she’s made the Leonidas dicks mad and they’re retaliating?”
“Probably the idiot son doing his father’s bidding,” Felix says, his voice grim. “They’re flexing on her for something that got back to them. However, she didn’t give me the faintest clue what might have triggered it.”
That gets my attention because nothing the families of exiles do is random or unimportant.
“It’s a message,” I say. “But the only one who can tell what it’s about is Zhenga. We might be able to help, but she has to spill her guts. Otherwise, we’re in the dark."
Felix nods as if the topic is closed for now. He pushes the empty plate away, his eyes unfocused as he then drums his fingers on the counter. The kitchen hums with unspoken questions and the echo of too many things left unsaid.
Chess says, quietly, “Are you going to tell Dolly that her friend might be struggling?”
“Not tonight. She needs a win after today. Let her have the evening.”
I approve—our family does its best thinking after dinner, not before.
The front door slams open, and Fitz explodes into the room, a hurricane in Nikes and a hoodie that proclaims ‘In Your End-o’ in holographic letters.
I squint at him, wondering where in the actual fuck he’s getting this shit.
It’s like he found a whole new clothing source since we arrived home and I don't get why or where. He’s got a six-pack of energy drinks under one arm, and the swagger of someone who is fully aware that his absence has been noted.
“Yo, my fine furry and scaly friends,” he yells, even though every last one of us is within ten feet of the kitchen. “Is it dinner time? It smells fucking amazing in here, Chessie.”
Chess doesn’t look up from the stove. “The next loud sound you make will get you chopsticks up the nose. My angel is showering off practice dirt, Ren is not back from the bell tower yet, and you are late as well. That means you don’t get to be obnoxious, babe.”
“Fine, but it’s only under protest,” Fitz fires back, dropping his stuff by the table as he comes closer. “And only because you asked, not these assholes.”
Without another word, he walks over to the laptop, opening it to click something.
“Baby Girl’s security suite is patched yet again, by the way.
The new classroom cameras you wanted are up and running, but two of the feeds are laggy as shit, which I’m fixing tonight.
Also, the boxes in the hall? Already checked.
No trackers, no explosives, not even anthrax. Boring as hell.”
No one responds to his caffeine and sugar laced rant, so the younger tiger arches a brow. “Why are you fuckers so quiet, anyway? I know our dad didn’t kick the bucket because Felix would be doing the fucking Hustle on the coffee table, so fess up.”
Felix makes a face, but gives his brother the ten-second version of Zhenga’s committee shit.
His twin actually freezes, his brows furrowed.
“That’s bad. That’s very, very bad.” He gulps, then turns to me.
“We don’t need the Leonidas pussies screwing with us, too.
There are far too many nasty old farts with money fucking with our family and Z is like extended fam for our girl. Do we have a plan?”
I shake my head. “Not yet because the lioness in question is being difficult about information.”
He grins, predatory. “I’ll find out what’s getting her blackballed. Count on me, fuckers.”
Right as he vows his aid, Renard descends the stairs from the bell tower silent as an assassin.
His boots are dusted with what looks like powdered limestone, and he’s got his sleeves rolled up past the elbow, exposing his muscled forearms. My mate gives us all a nod, then takes his place among us like the last puzzle piece.
Chess pours him a mug of something dark and fragrant and slides it across the counter without a word.
Those two and their weird fucking wines, I swear to hell.
Renard takes a sip and closes his eyes for a second, savoring it. Then he says, “I want to fly the perimeter tonight, mon amour.”
“If you’re going out, you should take the eastern route. We need to check the tunnel access by the music hall and you can do it faster,” Felix says as he looks at us. “Is that possible?”
Renard tilts his head, nodding. “Agreed. Flames and I must feed, but on our way back, we will go past that and the area I wish to look at as well.”
Then, as if on cue, Fitz looks up from the computer and says, “Hey, not to be a buzzkill, but I did a run on the new diplomacy professor like you asked.
Nothing, and I mean, motherfucking nothing.
No digital trail, no facial matches, not even a shadow of a shadow on the dark web. That level of clean is—“
He doesn’t finish, but we all get it. It’s the kind of clean that means serious skills that cost major money.
Felix whistles low. “That’s a problem.”
At that exact moment, there’s a slamming sound from the back of the house, and Dolly appears in the kitchen doorway with her hair still damp.
She’s wearing a faded t-shirt and shorts that belong to someone at least two sizes up from her, but it isn’t mine this time.
Planting both hands on the doorframe, she squares her shoulders.
“I’m coming with you tonight.” Felix opens his mouth, but she cuts him off. “Don’t even start. I haven’t been flying in forever, and I’m not sitting out just because there are stupid assholes everywhere. I’m going and that’s the end of it.”
Rennie smiles, the tiniest upturn at the corner of his mouth, but before he can respond, Chess interrupts with a harrumph. He gestures at the food on the stove and counter, looking at all of us as if he’s going to put shaving cream on our sheets if we don’t eat dinner as planned before we go.
“Okay, Chessie, I get it.” Our bunny walks over and kisses his temple before she goes to fill a plate, and Felix gets up to follow her.
Fitz, not missing a beat, raises his can of energy drink in a mock toast from his perch. “You guys are gonna fuck it up and I’m going to figure out that damn ghostly prof while Felix does dishes. It’s decided.”
The older tiger blinks in surprise and Chess shrugs, his grin wide. “Guess you’re the loser tonight, bro.”
I don’t say anything, but I definitely won the fucking lottery the past two nights—mated my bunny and I got out of dishes.
Fuck yeah.